a pretty epigram. I don't know if you ever heard it: I'll suppose you never did, because it will fill up my letter:
Give but Cupid's dart to me, Another Cupid I shall be; No more distinguished from the other Than Venus would be from my mother.
Scandal says, Hedges thought the two last very like; and it says too, that she was not his enemy for thinking so.
Adieu! Gray and I return to Lyons in three days. Harry7 stays here. Perhaps at our return we may find a letter from you: it ought to be very full of excuses, for you have been a lazy creature; I hope you have, for I would not owe your silence to any other reason.
21. To BICHAED WEST.
Turin, Nov. 11, 1739. N.S.
So, as the song says, we are in fair Italy! I wonder we are; for on the very highest precipice of Mount Cenis, the devil of discord, in the similitude of sour wine, had got amongst our Alpine savages, and set them a-fighting with Gray and me in the chairs: they rushed him by me on a crag, where there was scarce room for a cloven foot The least slip had tumbled us into such a fog, and such an eternity, as we should never have found our way out of again. We were eight days in coming hither from Lyons; the four last in crossing the Alps. Such uncouth rocks, and such uncomely inhabitants! My dear West, I hope I shall never see them again! At the foot of Mount Cenis we were obliged to quit our chaise, which was taken all to pieces and loaded on mules; and we were carried in low
7 Hon. Henry Seymour Conway.